


Strokes

by hailexcalibur



Category: Original Work
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, M/M, Mild Language, Pre-Relationship, Short One Shot, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-16
Updated: 2020-01-16
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:48:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22274344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hailexcalibur/pseuds/hailexcalibur
Summary: Joan isn't good with words, so he gives Grey the only way he can freely express himself: a gift of brush strokes.
Relationships: Gregory Lowell/Jonathan Ainsworth
Kudos: 2





	Strokes

Joan clutches the transparent, blue file holder tightly to his chest, gaze pointedly fixed on the floor as students bustled about. His heart threatens to beat out of his ribcage, and he tries to even out his erratic breathing by counting in his head, which…Seems to fail with how the raven lets out small puffs of air in a quick pace.

He stands, slightly bowed, near the potted plant at the center of the hallway, the urge to curl up into a ball and flee rising as the thought that the eyes of hundreds of students may suddenly shift to him start to fill his mind. Joan wants to go home, and rip the paper in his holder to shreds.

This is too nerve-wracking. There’s too much at risk, and Joan has no one but himself to blame. He could run, and forget about all this.

But he’s made a promise to Gregory.

His virtuous side wins over his doubts, and he can do nothing but brace himself for the encounter, no matter the result later on.

Joan glances at his watch. Grey’s class should be finished any moment now. He’s not ready, but the younger has to keep his word. Even if nothing would come out of the meeting, he doesn’t want to be viewed as a dishonest person.

He finally has the courage to look up, and almost shrieked when he sees the familiar, yet intimidating figure descending the stairs and already staring right at him. His breath quickens again, and he has to fight to not break out hyperventilating in the middle of the main hallway, busying himself with wiping the cold sweat running down his temples to momentarily forget about his upcoming doom.

Dark, hazel orbs follow Gregory as he starts to come closer to Joan, and…Holy fudge, he can’t stop himself from getting distracted as he watches the older student walk towards him. Joan could never understand how Grey can look so effortlessly flawless. The first thing that Joan noticed right at the start is definitely his arms (damn him and his obsession), exposed in the light grey sleeveless tee that Gregory is wearing. The flannel shirt he must have used to cover himself during class is tied around his waist, and his hair falls messily over his forehead, covered with a matching grey hairband. Paired with the ripped jeans and white Converse, he looks like the perfect boyfriend Joan’s been looking for.

“Jonathan?”

The hoarse, low voice snapped him out of his daydream, and Joan does shriek this time, turning a few heads at his shrill cry. He almost loses his balance, if not for the toned ( _holy shit_ ) arm reaching out for his and pulling him before he falls flat on his back, Joan staring up at Gregory with a wide, startled look. The older simply raises an eyebrow, and to the untrained eye, it would seem like Grey has this disinterested expression on his face, but Joan, being (slightly) attuned to his acquaintance, can see the very small quirk of his lips.

Joan’s face flushes a hot red, and he quickly scrambles to straighten himself, fidgeting with the holder as he tries to stammer up a decent answer. “S-sorry, Grey! I was spacing out!” he curses how squeaky his voice sounds, further ruining his image in front of his dear crush. Lord, why must he be so socially awkward.

Grey just stares down at him, gaze as sharp as ever, and Joan tries not to squirm under his scrutiny. His heart is beating so loud he can hear his blood rushing through his ears. His legs feel like jelly, and standing itself already takes tremendous effort. In the end, Gregory just shrugs, and left the matter alone.

“So, what did you need?”

It’s the moment of truth. It either ends or begins here, the deciding factor of their future relationship. Will he break it, or make it?

Here goes nothing.

Joan swallows the lump in his throat, and with trembling hands, offers the clear holder he’s been holding towards the older boy, head ducked down slightly to hide his pink cheeks and to avoid eye contact. “Happy birthday, Grey!” he exclaims, and pauses to breathe, not even looking up to see Gregory’s reaction in fear of getting discouraged, “I-I got you—Well, more accurately made—you a b-birthday present.”

_Joan, you wuss, stop stuttering!_

He doesn’t have to look into a mirror to know that the tips of his ears are pink as well, clear signs of embarrassment, but he plows through the rest of his speech. “You might not l-like them, and you’ve probably received a ton of gifts, too, but I tried m-my best to draw pictures of you. I h-hope they’re not too much…”

Joan’s voice wavers and becomes smaller as he reaches the end of the sentence, and his shivering just gets worse, the clear holder containing his precious paintings threatening to slip out of his fingers. He _still_ has his head down, and he can feel his anxiety rise with each second of silence between them, the roar of the crowd deafening and _why isn’t Grey taking the holder—_

A hand lands on the top of his head, and gently ruffles his hair.

_…Huh?_

He peeks up, and the holder was taken from his hands. He blinks, astonished, as he watches Grey flick the clear blue holder open and leaf through the small papers inside. The gleam in his eyes brightens, and Joan swears he’s going into cardiac arrest when Gregory looks at him with so much _gratitude_ , and— _Did he just make him smile?_

(Technically it was a smirk, but Joan was too high with giddiness to notice.)

The older college student pats him on the head again, before he slips the holder carefully inside his backpack. “Nonsense, Jo. Stop belittling yourself like that,” he chides. Joan’s heart soars higher. “You having the intention of giving me something is enough already. Thanks, I appreciate it a lot.”

It took a few seconds for the fact that Gregory _likes_ his present to sink in, and Joan breaks out into a huge, genuine grin. “Really?” he whispers, with barely contained excitement. His crush nods in response, and _oh god he just patted his cheek playfully_.

“Definitely. I’ll treasure this,” Joan’s brain short-circuits for a moment and he forgets how to human as he only gapes at the taller raven, who’s currently looking at the clock and clicking his tongue, shouldering his backpack once more. “Damn, I still have semantics after this. I’ll see you later?” the younger nods dumbly, and the smirk on Grey’s face widens slightly. “Alright. Wait for me in the cafeteria, okay? See ya’.”

Grey turns to leave and go up the stairs, but stops short to look back at Joan and exclaim a, “You’re an awesome artist, by the way!” before finally leaving Joan alone staring at nothing like an absolute idiot.

Gregory liked his present.

Gregory called him an awesome painter.

_Gregory is going to keep it safely_.

Joan cheers, and jumps in joy circling the potted plant, looking like a lunatic on the loose but he doesn’t _care_ because Grey didn’t reject him, he still has a chance! This is the best day ever!

Joan promises, he’s going to do his best to please Gregory and maybe, maybe one day…

Maybe he’s going to fall in love with Joan.

_WHAM!_

“Ow! What the hell, Lex?!”

“Stop running around like a dumbass, you’re giving me secondhand embarrassment!”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Kudos and comments are highly appreciated!


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